More Than Just a Plaything: Revised
by Aestiony Year
Summary: Revised:  Kyouya discovers that manipulation isn't the only way to get what he wants.
1. Chapter 1

Haruhi-Kyouya pairing

A/N: Well, hello everyone. This is my first time at a fanfic, published or not. My very first attempt EVER! And here I always thought that my first would be a Naruto. Oh well, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own OHSHC or any of the characters. I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, if I did; I would be drawing and writing and having a grand old time being rich and admired.

_I'm not the fun one. I'm not the cute one, the lovable one, the tough one, or even the admirable one. I'm the one that is always in the background; I'm the one that's always calculating, planning, organizing, but never enjoying. I'm the boring one, the cold one. I'm the Mommy._

_At least… that's the way it felt before _she_ got here. Before her, I could feel the tight vise that my persona had become slipping tighter and tighter around my chest, making it hard to breathe. I, the aloof one, the remote one, was drowning in exactly what I thought I wanted to be- what I thought I was supposed to be. I suppose that scared me more than the thought of profit margins in the red. _

_But as I said before, that was all before she arrived, breaking precious porcelain in her wake. Studying the shards of the blue-green vase on the floor, I knew what was coming next. Like a well-written, over-used script, I felt the words pour out of my mouth, all the while wondering how I could talk when I could barely breathe. _

_But somehow, this time I knew the script was being changed; I knew that this time, it would end differently._

"Haru-chan~!" The name made my pen, active as always, skitter across the graph paper that I was so meticulously embellishing with information and numbers that would keep this ragtag group together.

But even as I grimaced, searching for some way to salvage my own academic Mona Lisa, I was excited to hear her name; even after these long months, many adventures, and yes, hormonal breakdowns (No askance glances to Ms. Haruhi, please; you should direct your attention to our most glorious King and his two idiot attendant look-a-likes.), I was vaguely surprised that even her name could make my heart miss and my thoughts (not to mention, pen) scramble.

It was as unlike me as was a missed answer on a Trigonometry exam. It made me feel uneasy, but I was adept at hiding beneath my façade of collected, unruffled boredom.

"Haru-chan!" Honey-senpai smiled as he danced over to her, his Usa-chan dragging on the floor behind him (probably costing me- us- another ¥15,000 in dry cleaning). I quickly scribbled that little vein-popper into the margin of my leather-bound folio before casually fixing my attention on the pair- after all, Mommy has a right, doesn't s(he)?

This newfound interest in someone such as her baffled me; I could have many women much more attractive than her, no money involved. All I had to do was say my name and a woman was ready to throw herself at my feet.

I would be lying if I said I didn't use this to my _advantage_ every once and a while- discreetly, of course. So why was it that I felt so desperate to have her? _Easy,_ my calculating, logical mind responded. Sometimes, it was like we were two intimidating intelligent entities. _You naturally want what you can't have._

"I haven't seen you in…" Honey-senpai's brown eyes shuttered and his brows knitted together as he (adorably) attempted the math. _Two hours and seventeen minutes, _my mind responded moments before Honey's own, "Forever!"

The lovely item looked over at his cousin, best friend, and confidant for affirmation. Mori-senpai responded with a grunt that could either be taken for a yes, or just that- a grunt.

"Where have you been?" the little blonde asked imploringly, his rabbit clutched underneath his chin (again, adorably). His interogatee looked at him in confusion, before she answered slowly. "I've been in class, Honey-senpai. Where else?"

Never amiss for a chance to cause trouble, Hikaru and Kaoru loped over to join the little group in tandem, mirror images of each other. (Apparently, sitting on the couch, playing Mercy isn't enough fun.) "Now, now, Haruhi," Hikaru began, wagging his finger in mock disapproval. "You know it's not in good taste for a lady to reveal where her trysts take place." The girl's face fell in dry acknowledgement of the joke.

"That's right," Kaoru chimed in. "Especially since the parties involved," a quick motion between him and his twin, "don't particularly want everyone to know that that's what we do in between classes. Really, Haruhi. Please try to be more considerate next time!"

I smiled shallowly as this set off a minor explosion from the last uninvolved member besides myself. Tamaki was practically foaming at the mouth, hearing this. "How dare you talk about my beloved daughter like that! Unscrupulous! It's distasteful!"

Violet eyes flashing dramatically, he chased the twins around the room, threatening to kill them. They only laughed, enjoying the new game. When was Tamaki ever going to learn?

Relatively unaffected by the interruption, Haruhi resumed her conversation with Honey-senpai, becoming more and more animated as the conversation apparently developed into something that interested her.

Ever on the outside, I pushed my glasses back towards the top of my nose._ I wonder how it would feel to make her smile like that. I wonder how she would respond if I…? ,_ I mused silently, cutting off my own train of thought before it meandered down more unpleasant avenues. Ever discreet, I tended to avoid such subjects.

But perhaps the gods of dull people were smiling down on me, because moments later, Haruhi turned her beautiful attentions on me. At least, I liked to think that's what was happening as she excused herself and walked over to the table I was sitting at.

If I was honest with myself, I would admit that I enjoyed watching her walk over to the table as much as I enjoyed her being so close once she actually sat down. But I wasn't honest unless it benefitted me and I wasn't sure if this new revelation fell into that category; so I did what I usually did, what I had been doing for so long that it had wormed its way into becoming a natural habit- I didn't do anything but sit silently and plan out what would be the most advantageous move for me.

I, the lifeless one, the unexciting one, sat stoically as I watched her approach me. Back to that sticky subject about honesty, in all of it, I wanted to leap up, kneel in front of her, and declare that I loved everything about her. But as the drab one, I knew that breaking form was forbidden to me.

My very being revolted against such a display, but I still couldn't help wondering and speculating, even if the two were entirely useless venues.

"Good afternoon, Kyouya-senpai." Ah, her formality cut me, shallowly, but all the same. '_No', _I wanted to tell her, shout at her, whisper in her ear, '_Call me Kyouya-san... Kyouya-kun.' _But, I stayed in my seat, flashing her a subdued smile. In all things, prudence first. Besides, what would people think if I asked her to call me so familiarly? Not advantageous in the least bit. "Good afternoon, Haruhi. How was class?"

I wanted to know, wanted to hear her voice- for once- only sounding for me. _Was it childish and selfish? _I thought to myself, that smile falling flat on my lips. _Yes,_ I decided. But I also decided that I was allowed that childishness, that selfishness every once in a while. After all, Mommy can't be a grown-up _all_ the time. Later, I would be surprised that not once did I think about holding my courtesy against her, for a favor, even thought I thought I would.

"Oh, you know. It was boring and not over soon enough. But I can't give up," she said confidently. She ran a small hand through her short brown locks quickly, glancing out at the sky as she did so.

_Thinking about her mother,_ my mind supplied as I looked out the huge window with her. "I have to work as hard as I can or I'll never fulfill my dream." I smiled a true smile at that, but my dark eyes filled with longing and confusion.

Haruhi paused a moment before twisting her lips wryly. "How much is that question going to cost me?" she asked laughingly. I didn't flinch, though I didn't offer a smile either because we both knew (at least I hoped we did) that it wasn't so much a joke as it was truth.

Everything cost her, everything embedded her deeper into this confinement; though honesty came easy on this point when I admitted that I did it on purpose. I did it sadistically, because I wanted her close to me.

I wanted a chance at her, a chance that Tamaki was easily given but hasn't realized, a chance that the twins still have but refuse to act on. I wasn't given a chance, and for that, I want to make her suffer.

I ignored the barb that I thought was hidden in the joke; Haruhi smiled sadly, the truth having bit her on the nose. She knew that every kindness I gave her, every piece of advice I tossed her way was just another mound of dirt that buried her deeper within the Host Club's debt; at this point, I'm not sure who I hate more: myself for doing this to her, or her for doing this to me?

But I didn't let myself think on the question too much. It reminded me much of a rose in a way, intriguing at first glance, but to wrap your hand around it was to draw blood.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do exactly as you want in life," I replied finally as I stood up; irony struck me blind at the moment- my statement had two inflections, but only one drew a surge of cold to my eyes, hidden behind my glasses.

She didn't say anything as I walked away, and out the door of the Third Music Room. But I didn't put too much stock in the reaction or lack thereof; Haruhi could usually be depended on for explaining things away.

Strangely enough, again, I wasn't sure who I hated more for this fact: her or me.

Well, thank you all kindly for reading this. I would love for reviews! That way, I'll know if anyone would actually read this if I continued to write. Sorry that I didn't write out much dialogue, but this is just the introduction; be patient, my fair readers. It will be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here I am again, with another chapter in my own little drama. See, it's weird because I almost feel everything Kyouya feels when I'm writing about it. Weirdo, I know, but still. So that's why I decided to hurry and post this next chapter. This time around though, it's going to be in Ms. Fujioka's perspective; now I know that everyone was interested in seeing how Kyouya's own perspective panned out, but every time I started writing this chapter, it wouldn't work out. I have no idea where Kyouya ran off to. So… that would make it kind of hard to write in his own voice, since his location is a mystery to me. Weirdo again, I know. But anyway, sit back and try to enjoy, okay, dear readers?

Disclaimer: I really don't know why I do this every time. Really, do you wonderful readers really believe that I would be here if I owned OHSHC? No, I'm sure you don't.

_Where is he off to in such a huff?_ I wondered idly, his change in mood not really surprising me in the least bit. I was getting used to Kyouya's moods swings, especially since they seemed to only happen around me.

From the way he acted, you would think I smelled like a compost pile or something equally as foul. It was almost as if he deemed me a waste of his time, not worth even more than a few minutes and half a conversation- within the course of a week.

Of all the members of the Host Club, Kyouya was the worst about this; he just couldn't seem to let me forget my apparently distasteful _commoner_ status.

I spent countless hours in my own mind trying to find that one moment that sent us into this downward spiral, the faux pas I must have committed. Maybe I accidentally kicked his cat or something; I wasn't fond of animals and you never knew who's animal that street-wanderer was.

_But how would he know that I had kicked it? _I thought, my lips pulling up into an unhappy grimace. _Unless that rich jerk had some kind of animal thoughts translating device. Figures. Stupid Fluffy._

I put my chin into my hands, leaning forward into the table. Sunlight was streaming onto the table, warming my skin through the expensive blazer that rested around my apparently androgynous frame.

The warmth felt nice, as it eased the tension that had accumulated between my shoulder blades. My eyes closed, feeling suddenly heavy- from both the nice weather and the weight of my own thoughts.

But that tranquility wasn't allowed in this room, it seemed, because as soon as I felt comfortable enough to let go of my brooding state, that evil pair brought it all back, but in a different incarnation.

"Haaaaaruhiii! Let's play dress up! You can be the model," the older of the two yelled as he sauntered over, breathless from his 'game' with Tamaki.

"Though," the twin chimed in, looking as fresh as a spring daisy. "I'm not sure if you should be a boy doll or a girl doll. It's _so_ hard to tell."

The Hitachiin brothers cackled, overcome with that weird male humor when it came to boobs. I would really never understand them.

"No," I replied flatly, almost forgetting about Kyouya; but it was like a leaky faucet- you just couldn't turn it off. You could ignore it, but it was always in the back of your mind. _Drip, drip, drip… Kyouya, Kyouya, Kyouya…_

"But why? It would be so much fun!" they cried in tandem. "And besides," Kaoru murmured deviously. "Tamaki would like it!"

They broke down in another bout of the giggles. _Grow up,_ I wanted to sneer at them, but somehow (against all logic) I found it somewhat endearing. _Ugh, boys._

"Well," The King retorted, sputtering a bit. "At least dressed as a man, she'd be more modest." This was _not_ the right thing to say in front of the twins. Their grins stretched wider, giving them the look of pale Cheshire Cats. It was off-putting to say the least, as I fought off a shudder.

"Oooh," they murmured, the looks on their faces showing me exactly why they had earned the 'little devils' type. "Tamaki likes them rough and masculine~!" It was meant to be a song, I mused, but with the way I was feeling, it came to my ears sounding somewhat like a dirge.

"I do not! Stop talking about my precious daughter like that!" This last statement set off their paused game of "When I Catch You Two, I'm Going To Make You Sorry."

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day, and turned back to the table to find Mori-senpai occupying the seat that Kyouya had vacated.

Honey was draped over his shoulders, his favorite pink rabbit clutched in his small hands. Mori was trying to wipe crumbs of the shoulder of his jacket as Honey voraciously consumed a slice of cake that he must have carried over here. I was sure that Kyouya wasn't eating cake when he was sitting over here.

_Kyouya… _Thinking about him twice in the same thought train turned my mood dismal. Where did he go, anyway? Did I really smell bad enough to make him vacate the premises?

I didn't think so; maybe it was like dogs, like he could smell something that I couldn't- the scent of middle-class, maybe.

Suddenly, the room felt cramped, like there was no air left for me to breathe. I was overwhelmed with the need to get away; reclusive habits die hard, I guess.

I stood up abruptly, startling the table with my sudden movement. Mori didn't bat an eye as he reached out to steady the wobbling vase on the table; Honey looked worried.

Even Tamaki paused in giving the twins chase around the room, his face drawn in worried lines.

"Um, excuse me," I announced awkwardly. "I just realized I had an appointment to attend to. I… I'm late…?" Somehow I managed to end on a question, but no one seemed to notice.

I think they were just relieved that I hadn't lost my mind due to something girly that they couldn't help me with- like PMS, I bet.

After a watery smile and a hasty goodbye, I fled the Third Music Room.

There was a little time less than an hour left before the school day ended, but I really needed to get away from the moneyed halls of Ouran Academy.

I was almost half-way home before I realized I left my school bag back at the Music Room.

_Crap,_ I wailed mentally. Why the heck did I have to be in such a rush to leave that I forgot my books?

My studies were the only things that were keeping in that alien place; as much as I didn't want to go crawling back, I figured I should.

_Or,_ I mused, still unwilling to go back. _I could call Hikaru to ask him to bring my books to my house. Those two are always looking for reasons to come over._

Yes, that was the most logical idea I could come up with, short of going to get my school work myself- that was seriously not going to happen.

My home was only a few blocks away, so I jogged the rest of the way to make sure that I got home before either of the twins could leave the school. It would definitely be rude to ask them to turn around and get my stuff when I could have myself.

Upon reaching the solitude of my home, my face was covered in a light sheen of sweat. I was panting slightly, but I didn't waste any time dialing Hikaru's number.

He picked up around the third ring. "Hello," he drawled lazily into the device. "This is Hikaru. What is it, Haruhi?"

I twirled the phone cord around my finger nervously. I felt like I already owed the Host Club so much; was it fair to ask them for _another_ favor?

"I left my bag back in the Club room. If you're still there, could I trouble you to drop it off at my house?"

There was a pregnant pause at the other end of the line, and I already knew the answer because of it. "Well, we already left, Haruhi." I didn't say anything, wracking my brain for another option short of retrieving it myself.

"But," the Hitachiin quickly recovered the dying conversation. "I can call someone who hasn't left yet to get it for you, okay?"

I didn't have time to argue before both boys were yelling goodbyes into the phone and subsequently hanging up.

I held the phone for a moment, listening to the insistent buzz of the dial tone. Well, that didn't go quite as planned, but it was too late to undone the damage.

I walked back to the den and sat down, flipping the television on as I passed it. After flickering to life, the ancient box started prattling off the day's events.

It was several minutes that I sat, half-listening to the television before the door rang. I hopped up quickly to get it, sure that it was my school bag returned to me; I was also pretty sure that it was Tamaki- senpai doing the delivery.

I yanked open the door, relieved at the sight of a brown leather bag. "Thank you, Tama-…" I trailed off, dumbfounded, when my own eyes met with bespectacled raven ones. "Kyouya-senpai." I finished lamely.

He looked profoundly irritated, and I didn't blame him. I could only imagine the amount of cajoling and wheedling that had gone into the twins getting Kyouya to run such an errand. Especially since I smelled bad or something.

When he didn't say anything- only watched me in sneering, stony silence- I gathered pluck and stepped back from the door.

"Would you like to come in, Senpai?"

Well, here ends another chapter in this on-going saga. I hoped you liked it. I've already started working on the next chapter, which should be up my the end of the weekend. Next time, I'm going back to Kyouya's perspective. Please review, I beg of you! I care deeply on what my beautiful readers have to say about my writings (a.k.a- endless drabble).

Until next time.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Alright, lovely readers. Here I am with the next installment! Thank you so much for your uplifting reviews- I'm still smiling and I read those hours ago. This time, as I promised, I'm back with Kyouya's perspective.

You have no idea how long it took me to figure _where_ he went. Isn't that odd? I think so, and I'm the one writing it.

Anyway, fret not, my faithful readers. I figured it out.

_I dedicate this chapter to my first and most avid reviewer SasoLOVE111, for her support._

Disclaimer: Really, I hate this part. I don't own OHSHC or any of the characters. Unfortunately.

I had no idea where I was going as I politely stormed out of the Music Room; which was unusual, since I never did anything when it didn't have a purpose.

I just knew that I had to get out of that room, and away from _her_. This just made me all the angrier- this running away business.

I winced as the door to the Music Room slammed shut behind me, echoing demandingly as I loped down the empty hall. The rainbow of lights dancing across the hallway- refracted from the crystal chandeliers swaying above the silent halls- teased my eyes, making me wish for a pair of very expensive sunglasses.

My leather folio was clasped tightly in both my hands, my rigid fingers digging into the supple material; I was worried that I might end up losing my temper and hit something.

Needless to say, making a scene was not something that I could abide- neither could my father, and I had felt his palm across my face enough times to know it for a fact.

My breathing was ragged as I walked down the hall hurriedly, and my glasses were falling down the bridge of my nose, perched precariously at the end. But I couldn't let go of my papers. To do so would be disastrous, I knew.

It was eerily quiet in the halls; every step I took left me wincing from the resounding _crack _as my shoes met polished marble. _Apparently, I'm angry,_ I thought with a smirk, albeit it an angry and just slightly mangled smirk.

Though I had trouble working through it, I finally figured out why- exactly- I was so angry. It was because the girl that I had assumed was as common as a ten yen piece had so much influence over me, over my thought process.

For the halls to be this quiet left me uneasy in the far reaches of my mind. I still wasn't calm enough to let anything but that furious cold occupy the forefronts.

Usually there was at least one group of tittering fan girls (I gritted my teeth as I figured that this imaginary flock was probably talking about Haruhi), or a couple of jostling guys.

But not today- it was as if everyone in this collection of buildings knew exactly what was storming the halls.

I checked my watch by lifting the entire clumping of leather and clasped flesh up to eye level just to be on the safe side; 2:25, the expensive hands read out.

I still had thirty-five minutes until I could officially leave; _I could always walk home,_ I acknowledged, wanting to be out of an at least five mile radius of Fujioka Haruhi, _But I don't want to walk, and since my limousine arrives almost exactly as the bell rings, I suppose I should just tough it out._

I sighed angrily, pulling my lips into a scowl that could freeze the Sahara Desert. It was a good thing that no one was in the hallway, because then I couldn't guarantee that my fists would stay locked on my leather-bound portfolio.

_Screw it,_ I thought as I left the gilded portal into the bright sun outside. I held up my hands, almost confident that I wouldn't try to drive in into the wall.

_Curse Haruhi for making me so upset I had to leave, curse her for wounding my pride and confusing my feelings, _I growled mentally as I found my way into the maze that dominated most of the school grounds.

Though admittedly, being in the maze-outside and away from everyone was one of the better things that I had done today.

_One of the worst,_ my mind quipped, a separate entity again, _is that you blew up at Haruhi in front of everyone._ Though, after I rationalized it, I realized that no one really noticed my 'explosion.'

I grimaced in something approximating an apology, even though the gesture was useless with no one to see it. I wouldn't have apologized any other way.

I walked aimlessly, not really focusing on anything except when I had to push thorned roses away from my face; a few times, I didn't catch the blooms until they left a wet, angry red line across my face.

Why was I really mad at Haruhi? (I was so angry that any previous musings about the subject were drowned in a torrent of angst.) Was it because I couldn't control how I felt about her? Control was something I thrived on, something that defined me. Losing it, especially around someone as politically infinitesimal as she was, was something that didn't sit well as me.

But the question was (I mused, feeling slightly better because I at least had identified the problem), how was I going to solve the problem? I couldn't just let this issue go on unhindered and unsolved.

It went against the very grain of my being to consider just sitting back and do nothing. Wasn't that equivalent to admitting defeat? If anything, perhaps that thought ate at me the most.

I pushed my glasses back on the bridge of my nose, cursing as another thorn-laden rose raked across my cheek. _That's three,_ I sighed mentally, having calmed down a considerable amount. _Three obvious marks across my face; now _that_ won't have people talking tomorrow. They'll think that I got into some kind of lover's quarrel._

I found the stone veranda that had been used so many times by the Host Club as a hiding spot during Tamaki's obsession with playing commoner's games. I took a seat at the familiar table, resting my forehead in my hands.

_What should I do about Haruhi,_ I obsessed, my mind my own. _Really, how many options do I have? Short of finding a way to revoke Haruhi's scholarship?_

That was cruel beyond measure; and while the idea had merit, I was not a sadist by any means.

The tranquil air was interrupted as my phone- tucked neatly into the pocket of my blazer- started vibrating in a demanding manner. I plucked the device out of its resting place, flipping the plastic apparatus open in the same motion.

"Hello, Kyouya speaking," I answered, my voice smooth and flat- as if I was never angry in the first place. I was good at that- hiding my emotions.

What benefit was it to anyone else if they knew what I was feeling at every moment? I wasn't Tamaki; I didn't need anyone else invested in my own life except myself.

There was hurried shouting at the end of the other line, and it had the faint carryings of an echo; it was the Hitachiins, both yelling the same sentence- even alternating every other sentence- into my ear. Very loudly.

"You need to slow down and repeat yourself… selves. I have no idea what you two are shouting about. What about a school bag, now?" I punctuated this last uttering with a sigh, perceiving that I was being wrangled into an errand that those look-al-likes were too lazy to do themselves.

But as the reliable one, I was almost honor-bound to do what they needed of me… provided that they owe me something in the future.

"Okay, one more time, senpai. But try to keep up this time, please." This time around, only one of the pair spoke- presumably Hikaru. "We need you to run… someone's school bag to them. We know you're still at the school and we've just left," I checked my watch to confirm the time. I almost cursed out loud- it was 3:30.

My limo had probably already gone home- with me still at school. I really should have just walked home.

"So could we get you to take it over to them? It's pretty important." Hikaru finished, seeming almost hesitant to finish explaining the favor.

I did sigh this time. Lazy idiots. "Who's book bag?" There was a lengthy pause at the end before a small voice answered.

"Haruhi; it's Haruhi's bag." I clenched my fist, but otherwise refrained from answering.

"Senpai, we know it's such short notice, but she really need her books. You don't want her to get kicked out, do you?" _Yes, yes, I do._

"Besides, her house isn't _really_ that far out of the way… and… we would really owe you." These were the magic words.

"Fine, I will." I clipped out shortly and hung up, leaving no room for negotiations. It was the typical method of Ootori business.

I stood up easily, almost roused to excitement about the fact that I had some free labor for such a small price.

I refused to think about my destination and what- who- resided in said destination. All I had to do was hand her the book bag and leave. Be cordial of course, since it would benefit no one if I was outwardly rude to her.

I loped easily back into the Music Room, my trek back inside made a little easier by the fact that this time I had something to gain. _Was it always going to be like this for me? Will I only be happy when I get something out of a situation?_

The door didn't slam shut this time, leading me to believe that it had been my own agitated emotions that led me to believe that everything had been as angry as I was leaving.

I easily shrugged off the thought as my sights landed on the worn, brown bag that looked heavy with academic literature. Picking it up with only a slight intake of breath at its beguiling weight, I strode out of the space confidently without stopping to study the room.

I almost cursed my ignorance when I got outside. I had forgotten that I had to mode of transportation; I had to carry this stupid millstone all the way to Haruhi's house.

I was covered in a sticky layer of sweat when I arrived at the stairs leading up to Haruhi's apartment; my blazer was slung over my shoulders and my sleeves were rolled up above my elbows with my tie loose around my neck.

_Those lazy idiots owe me double,_ I thought, as I stared in weary apprehension at the next obstacle- a lengthy flight of stairs.

I mounted the stairs that seemed like a stack of mountains one at a time. The leather deadweight slapped against my thigh with every step, but before I knew it, I was at the top, panting for all I was worth.

Another few movements and I managed to reach the door bell. I pressed it once, and straightened up- I couldn't betray any sign of weakness, especially not in front of Haruhi.

I only had to wait a few moments before the door was wrenched open and a breathless Haruhi leaned out to thank her savior- Tamaki. I smirked as she looked into my eyes, realizing her faux pas.

_Well, we know what you wanted, don't we? _But I didn't offer up anything out loud; I stared at her stonily, wanting to make her uncomfortable. It was some kind of round-about (albeit perverse) type of payment.

"Kyouya-senpai," she murmured, correcting her earlier mistake. I- we- waited for the other to say something. I sure as heck wasn't going to, but I was surprised when she opened up her home to me.

"Would you like to come in, Senpai?"

I blanched at the offer, shocked that she would open up her home to me after I treated her so rudely earlier today. To invite me inside was nothing short than an act of kindness, a concept that was completely alien to me.

She noticed my indecision and smiled lightly at me. "Don't be shy, Kyouya-senpai. I just put on some tea and I think I may have made too much. It would be a shame to waste it."

Ah, now here was something that I understood; this kind of manipulation- to make me feel guilty if I refused. That was what decided the matter for me, a type of grudging respect for Haruhi.

I looked down into her melted chocolate eyes and felt something twist within the pit of my stomach- not to mention more delicate parts of my anatomy.

"Thank you," I answered, regretfully relieved to be able to come out of the heat. Subjecting myself to her kindness, in the vulnerable state that I was in, didn't help to assuage my wounded pride. "That's very kind of you." But I accepted anyway.

Her home was nice and neat, but painfully simple to the point of being plain. I looked around, trying not to be too critical… or to at least keep it off my face.

"Please," she called out from somewhere that I assumed to be the kitchen. I couldn't see from here. "Make yourself at home."

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. There was a low-lying table and I sat in front of it, folding my legs underneath me.

I was still angry, but it wasn't directed at her anymore; I was angry at myself for not looking at things from a more rational angle.

The Ootori way of business- of life- was so thoroughly ingrained in me, I was angry that I didn't realize the best option in the beginning.

Who said that I couldn't have Haruhi? If I wanted her- and I already acknowledged that I did- then I should just… take her.

Haruhi walked into the room, displacing my train of thought, balancing a tray with a tea pot and two glass stationed on it. _Time to set the plan into motion._

It was hastily drawn together in my mind, no more than a string of carefully placed actions, but it was a plan nonetheless. And besides, I could refine it later. All that mattered now was that I put it into action.

I stood up quickly, gracefully I knew, to take the tray from her shocked hands. She tried to protest, but I only smiled at her, placing in the action a wink for emphasis.

Oh, how the twins would laugh. Ootori Kyouya winking? It was unheard of; but if I wanted what I did, then sacrifices would have to be made.

I gently placed the tray on the table, the glass clinking slightly with the motion. I glanced up to notice that Haruhi was still standing.

"Well," I asked, a slight smile on my face- both for show and for the prize. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

And so ends another chapter. I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, and you may be confused as to the sudden change in Kyouya, but the cheeky little bugger has something up his sleeve, I can guarantee. So that's it for me until next time.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: First of all, thank you, dear readers, for your wonderful reviews! They have all been so positive and supportive.

Next, here's another chapter as promised. I feel like I'm pumping these out really fast; so fast, in fact, that more often than not, I have to go back and read the last chapter to figure out what's going on.

Though I don't really think that's a bad thing. I mean, I'm enjoying this as much as you all are. I'm constantly sitting at my keyboard making sympathetic noises for Kyouya or laughing at something one of them thought.

Yes, it's lame, but it's happening all the same. (That was a rhyme.) Anyway, enjoy this chapter coming at you from Haruhi's point of view.

Disclaimer: OHSHC or any of the characters mentioned in said series do not belong to me. If they did, I would have a lot of money and would be driving a nicer car than I currently am.

I was vaguely surprised that Kyouya actually deigned to grace my commoner abode with his presence. After all, I didn't really think he would come inside; it was just a formality- that invitation. _Even that little bit of cajoling was being polite… _but I knew I was lying to myself.

I wanted him to come inside; I was fascinated by him in a way that I didn't understand myself. He was so different from the other members of the Club, it was like night and day.

But nonetheless, he came inside. Maybe he thought that denying my request- in turn, being rude- would hurt him more than it would benefit him.

Either way, I was stuck with this brooding, yet undeniably alluring, presence in my home. _Crap, I should have just taken the bag, thanked him, and let him go on his way._ But no, old habits die hard; and besides, what would my mother have said if I was so rude to someone who had helped me?

Even if my savior made me so nervous that I couldn't even breathe regularly. My breath was hitched in my throat and my heart was somewhere net to it as I scurried back to the kitchen; the tea pot was already filled with hot water, curls of steam were tracing the air above it.

I wondered the whole time I was in there, steeping the tea, what I had gotten myself into.

Part of me was harried and worried, but the other part- the part that was slowly winning out- was the part that told me that I was over-reacting.

I placed the tea pot and two glasses on a wooden tray that I had wrestled from the depths of the cabinet under the sink, trying to keep my hands steady. _There is_ nothing_ to worry about; obviously, he's not mad at you. He accepted your invitation to come inside. Calm down, Haruhi._

I took a steadying breath and picked up the tray, almost smiling because my hands were barely shaking. But I didn't have time to enjoy the pride in my minor triumph because the tray was taken out of my hands.

I looked up to see the very object grasped tightly in Kyouya's hands, a look of calculating determination on his face.

_Well, crap,_ I thought, surprised enough to gape at the bespectacled man. _That's unusual._ _But… it's not unwelcome._

He seated himself casually at the table in the den, looking at me expectantly. "Well," he asked me, smiling shallowly.

There was something in that smile, but I decided to ignore it because, quite frankly, I was curious about this new change in attitude. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He seemed expectant, like he knew I wouldn't refuse. He was right (as usual) and I sat down across from him. I was sure that all kinds of confusion were drawn across my face, but I was determined to participate in whatever he had in mind.

I was sure that I had offended him in some way this afternoon, and when he showed up at my door, looking like the Devil himself, I had pretty much confirmed my own suspicions.

But after I brought the tea out, he was _magically_ changed into an angel- albeit an angel more along the lines of Lucifer himself.

We sat in silence for less than a moment, but something flashed across his face, through his eyes. I wasn't sure what it was, but it reminded me of all the times I had seen him and there had been a significant cash inflow for the Club at the time.

"Well," I said finally (though in reality, I spoke almost as soon as I sat down), drawing the word out long. "It's nice that you were able to stay." I meant the words, but somehow they felt forced coming out of my mouth.

My heart was in my throat as he studied my face, his eyes unreadable behind the planes of clear glass perched from his nose. I fidgeted with my empty glass, twirling the glazed cylinder in my hands.

"Yes," he murmured finally, slipping the green piece of porcelain out of my sweat-slicked hands. A thin stream of transparent brown liquid slipped into the cup, the tea pot held expertly in his pale, slender hands. "I was glad that you invited me. I would hate to have to wait outside in that heat for my ride to come pick me up and take me home."

I knew I shouldn't have been, but I was surprised to find out that Kyouya knew how to _hold _a tea pot, much less _operate_ a tea pot. I mean, doesn't he have people at home that have done that for him _since he was born_?

"Wait, you don't have a ride home?" My brows furrowed as I tried to remember if there was a limo or other expensive mode of transportation outside behind him on the street below. Why would he have a ride here but not home?

The raven-haired boy nodded slightly, and everything clicked together. The irritation, the disheveled clothes… I gasped, sitting forward on my knees. "I'm terribly sorry to have put you through that trouble, senpai!"

He smirked, passing back my now steaming cup. I hesitantly sat back, clasping the glass between my hands. I stared down morosely into my cup, the liquid revealing no answers to assuage my guilt. How selfish was I? Not only did I make him angry, but I made him bring my books home as well.

Though I wasn't left long to my own thoughts; I felt a hand under my chin, lifting my face to meet a smirking one. "It was no trouble, Ms. Fujioka," Kyouya murmured, making my heart jump and something stir low in my stomach.

"Though, for some reason, my driver isn't picking up his phone. I may have to stay here for a little while longer." He paused, his sensual eyes (_Sensual? Where the crap did I come up with that?_) glittering with that same money-counting look. "Is that okay with you?"

"Erm, no…" I blanched. "I mean yes! I mean no, I don't mind." He laughed lightly, pouring himself a cup of steaming tea. He took a sip (leaving me staring at the shape his lips made made, imaging things that no virgin had the right to imagine), while I tried to compose myself.

He laughed lightly, smiling at me with an unaccustomed softness. "Thank you, Haruhi. You're too kind." I looked down, a bit embarrassed.

"Ahh…" I managed to choke out, my eyes on my cup again (we were become very good friends, me and that cup), before his lips came down on mine. _How did he manage to lean across the table so fast? _My mind went pleasantly blank as we both went forward on our knees to adjust to the new position better.

_Hopefully, my father won't walk in…_ I ripped my lips away from his, my whole face seemingly on fire with a fierce blush. _What in the CRAP was I doing? And with Kyouya of all people!_

Now, wasn't that another cliff hanger? It's a bit shorter than my other chapters, but I wan't most of what's to come to be in Kyouya's perspective; I think it'll work out better that way. Anyway, please, please, please review.

Until next time.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm back again, and with another chapter for you, lovely readers! I thought this was going to take a lot longer.

But thankfully, while production may slow, it won't grind to a halt! Anyway, enjoy this next installment, presented in Kyouya's own twisted thoughts.

Anyway, this is the first chapter to have a lemon-y tidbit in it; my little virginal mind almost popped from the effort it took to type this up. Really, do you know how many romance novels are lying on my bedside table right now? It took _a lot _of research… and I just realized how dirty that made me sound. "Research", _riiiiight_. Even though it's only a little make-out scene here! Ha, perverts; we have to wait another chapter or two. Please don't hit me!

Disclaimer: You know I don't own OHSHC. I know I don't OHSHC. So now we're on the same page.

Haruhi hesitantly took a seat across from me, her slender legs folding neatly under the hem of her dress. She was staring at me as if I had grown a set of curled horns out of the side of my head, or something equally _impossible_- like do something kind_. _

Though, as much as I wanted to grit my teeth in frustration because of it, I couldn't blame her hesitation; I was acting out of character towards her and she was probably examining the situation from all angles, working out how this was going to benefit me or indebt her.

_And I'm the one that's been invited into her house, on her own kindness. _If I was anyone else, I would have been offended that she would be so wary of me; but I was the logical one, and if anything, Haruhi's behavior was logical- something that I of all people could appreciate.

I smiled lightly, thinking of how I would add something else to the list of my qualities after I got Haruhi. I smiled shallowly at the inevitable triumph, not noticing the uncomfortable look that passed over Haruhi's face at the victorious one that raced across mine.

"Well," she murmured, ripping me out of a vision of us _celebrating _my accomplishment. "It's nice that you were able to stay." The words were stiff, but I knew she meant them. Haruhi was too kind, too naïve, to notice a wolf in her comfortable little sheepfold.

She was fidgeting with everything her hands could reach (I was straining to keep the flash of dirty thoughts that accompanied my wayward choice of words from showing on my face… or anywhere else for that matter.), twirling her tea cup around and around in her hands.

I decided she had suffered long enough from my silence; passive-aggressive sadism was something I was known to indulge in every once and a while. "Yes, I was glad that you invited me. I would hate to have to wait outside in that heat for my ride home."

I waited for that drop of information to sink in, almost giddy from the rush of sympathy I was due to get. Really, she was making this game too easy; it wasn't even fun. _No,_ I corrected. _It's still fun. It's just not as fair._

And I was okay with uneven odds. Anything that would secure my victory was welcome in my crusade.

I picked up the tea pot, satisfied that the tea had steeped long enough, and poured the nervous girl a measure of the clear brown drink. She looked mildly surprised that I would do something like that, but I chose to ignore that unintentional slight.

"Wait, you don't have a ride home?" She looked confused for a moment; her brows pulled together like she was trying to do a difficult math problem.

I nodded, trying to put her out of her mathematic misery. My glasses were sliding down my nose and I gifted Haruhi with my trademark move: pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose with a smirk. (It was a sexy thing when I wanted it to be.)

Suddenly she gasped, and I was momentarily worried that my attempt at being provocative had caused her virginal heart to expire; I was being ridiculous, but one, I was adept at keeping my own inner musings firmly in my head so I wasn't worried about being exposed, and two, I was experiencing a momentary high from the victory that seemed so close to me.

Nothing less was expected of the practical one.

Suddenly, Haruhi rocketed forward on her knees, almost breathless in apology. "I'm terribly sorry to have put you through that trouble, senpai!"

I smirked, thinking how nicely this sympathy would play into cinching my prize for me. I passed back her cup, deciding for the moment that I wouldn't move in for the kill. While I could always strike too soon, I couldn't strike too late. Not with the game that I was playing, the web that I was weaving.

I noticed the girl staring sadly down into her cup, as if she were contemplating drowning herself in it. I felt a passing pang that I might hurt her; my game- my desire for something that wasn't offered to me- could hurt her irrevocably.

But I, the selfish one, couldn't look past my own needs and desires. I wanted this girl- not because she was beautiful, or even out of the ordinary- but because she wasn't mine to take.

That's what made this prize more valuable to me than currently anything that my father's money or name could get me.

I placed a careful finger under her chin, lifting her chocolate brown eyes to meet my own. "It was no trouble, Ms. Fujioka," I assured her, pleased at the flush that her face was slowly being painted with.

"Though, for some reason, my driver isn't picking up. I may have to stay here for a little while longer," I murmured, ready to seize another opportunity. This whole situation was playing out like a poorly matched chess game, and her queen was about to fall.

"Is that okay with you?" Haruhi blanched, the flush that was stalking slowly up her face tearing a swath across her cheeks. "Erm, no… I mean yes! I mean no, I don't mind."

I couldn't help but laughed, even if the real reason for mirth was cruel. I poured myself a cup of tea to calm myself; I was _almost_ shaking with anticipation. Only a few more moments until I reached the goal, and I knew I couldn't rush it. To do so would risk everything, making me a bad guy in her eyes. _Game over._

The tea slid down my throat, the warmth from the drink easing my tense mind. _Just a few more… check mate._

I leaned forward across the table quickly, my lips crashing against hers. It wasn't nearly as graceful as I had intended it, I easily compensated when we both leaned forward.

_Apparently,_ I thought with glee, _she likes it as much as I do. _But that thought was crushed almost immediately as Haruhi ripped her lips from mine.

Her face was awash with scarlet, her hand clasped over her mouth.

"Was it that offensive, Haruhi?" I asked quietly, but the sentence echoed around the room seemingly. "_I_ liked it; and I think if you were honest with yourself, you would admit the same."

I worked my way over to her side of the table, kneeling in front of her. Her hand was still clasped over her mouth and she was staring intently at the floor, as if the carpet held the answers to life.

I repeated my earlier gesture and lifted her face up to meet mine. Her hand fell away to show that her teeth were tugging on her bottom lip nervously.

I sucked in a ragged breath and pressed my own lips to her worried ones; my tongue traced along the seam of her lips, feigning permission, before slipping between her lips.

Haruhi gasped, shocked at my audacity. I smiled against her lips, leaning back to pull her on top of me. That little stunt earned me another gasp, though a significantly different kind of gasp.

I moaned as she squirmed on top of me, trying to make herself more comfortable- not a likely prospect considered what _exactly_ was making her uncomfortable.

I ran my hand up her side, hating the layer of fabric that was separating my palm from her smooth skin. Growling against our frantic mouths, I gave up on the rest of the cloth-covered body, instead fisting my hands in her hair.

I had to be- tried to be careful. If we went too far, my whole plan could be ruined; Haruhi was not the kind of girl who would be okay with her first time being on the floor, much less with me as she knew me.

Drawing in a strained breath, I pulled her lips from mine, resting my forehead against hers. "Was that too forward?"

Something incoherent issued from her mouth, drawing a Cheshire smile across my lips. _Better answer than I expected._

Haruhi, realizing exactly what position she was in, scrambled off from on top of me, leaving me with groan. "S-senpai, w-wha…? Why?"

I looked at her coolly, despite the blood boiling everywhere in my body- especially in that _member._ I knew I couldn't answer her question, so I did one of the things that I did best. I evaded. "Don't tell me you didn't like it; you sounded like a hungry kitten."

Her face, previously colored with passion, flooded with scarlet embarrassment. That was cruel and I knew it, but it was necessary.

Disentangled from Haruhi's tempting body, I stood and brushed myself off, adjusting my glasses. "Well, as fun as this has been, I believe my ride is here." She stood frozen to the floor- no doubt because of my cold demeanor, the heartless cad that I was- as I sveltely moved around her.

I let myself out of her house, trying half-heartedly to straighten my disheveled clothes. Of course, I hadn't even bothered to call my driver; a walk would do me some good, help me blow off some _steam._

Now that was suprising, even for me. Why is Kyouya so cold? Why does he insist on treating Haruhi like a possession to be won? I don't know, but that behavior better not continue, Mr. Ootori!

Nevertheless, I'll be making Kyouya act more admirably the next few chapters. He was rather cruel in this one... but I was feeling it. Meh.

Anyway, the next chapter will be in Haruhi's point of view; it promises to be full of insecurity, angst, and confusion.

Until next time, fair readers.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Well, hello there. It's me again.

So, thank you all for favoriting this story and for all the constructive, supportive reviews. Now I know most of you want to slap Kyouya. "Why the heck are you doing this? How could you do this to Haruhi?"

Not to defend his awful actions or anything, but I want to clarify; Kyouya is facing a very difficult situation and while he's good at denying himself something that is completely accessible to him, he's not so good at denying himself something that he can't necessarily have- like Haruhi.

Anyway, he'll _eventually _see the err of his ways, but don't worry for now. Please sit back and enjoy this next chapter from Haruhi's point of view.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own anything that has to do with OHSHC. So after I go slit my wrists because of this unfortunate fact, I'll be back with more fanfiction.

I was scared to go to school the next day; as I lay in bed, I couldn't help but replay this afternoon's events over and over again in my mind. My lips still tingled with phantom sensation, and my fingers played across the sensitive skin wonderingly.

In fact, I didn't even want to get out of bed tomorrow, much less get dressed and go to school. My thoughts were whirling with apprehension, and an admittedly small part was mangled with longing.

My face was still awash with heat, that awkward (but not entirely detestable) scene played through my head. I was confused, as well; on one level, I knew I should be- and I was- mad at Kyouya for taking those liberties and then treating me like that, walking away with a smirk after he decided he was finished.

On the other, I couldn't say I didn't like the kiss itself, or those delicious liberties he took with me.

Though, no matter how many times I tried to work through the situation and piece together a logical response, I only managed to confuse myself further.

_I suppose it all comes down to whether I like him or not._ And that, if anything, was what twisted my thoughts into a snarl. Was I only entertaining these thoughts because I thought that Kyouya liked me and wanted me? Or did I like him because I really felt something for him? _Or did I even like him at all?_

I cried out, slamming my hands down on the mattress before knotting them in my nightgown. I was sick to my stomach, nervous enough that all I wanted to do was throw up, go to sleep, then never wake up- all in that order.

The next morning dawned bright, shining, and generally like everything that I wasn't feeling. I hadn't slept very well the night before and I was irritable on top of angsty about seeing Kyouya at school today. I could also feel a migraine shifting just beyond the reachable edges of my mind.

I couldn't help but wonder (unadmittedly hope) if he would try to kiss me again sometime during the school day, pull me into an empty hallway or closet and make me lose my mind yet again. The string of various scenarios flitting through my already fit-to-burst head made dressing very difficult.

It took me almost thirty minutes longer than usual to dress myself, and trying to knot my tie correctly was out of the question- besides, did it really look all that bad united around my neck? It was this disheveled state that caused me to be another ten minutes later as I endured a round of rapid fire questions from my father.

Apparently, if everything wasn't just so with me- if I wasn't exactly on schedule- then I was going to off myself according to his mode of thinking.

I offered the standard answers- "Yes. No. Not really. No, that's okay; you don't have to. Please let go of me." Another three minutes were lost as I tried to disentangle myself from my father's tearful, over-zealous hug.

I ran out of the house with my bag and blazer slung over my arm, momentarily distracted enough to keep my thoughts from Kyouya. The peaceful reprieve wasn't long enough, though.

"Haaaaruuhiiii~!"

I almost cringed at Tamaki calling my name; I was always irritated when he insisted calling into play his odd idea that we were a father-daughter team, and that grating tone he was taking with me was making my migraine stir to life like a hibernating bear.

"Haruhi! Why are you so… messy today? Why is my little daughter running around like a ragamuffin? It's shameful!" The King of the Host Club cried, a graceful hand thrown over his face dramatically.

I sighed miserably, not mentally able to fend off Tamaki's antics. "I don't know, Tamaki-senpai. I'm just tired, that's all." I couldn't help but feel Kyouya's grin burning into the back of my head.

Honey was sitting on one of the ornate couches, a plate of cake and his Usa-chan on his lap. Mori was standing by with a napkin in hand, catching crumbs almost as soon as they fell from Honey's mouth.

"Poor Haru-chan!" he cried around a mouthful of sugary bakery goods. "You must not be feeling well!"

"Yeah," the twins intoned from where they were playing a game of Rich Man, Poor Man on the floor. "You look terrible; you should probably get some more sleep."

Tamaki looked appalled, acting as if Hikaru and Kaoru had just gravely insulted me. "You idiots! How could Haruhi get any sleep when she is working the very skin off her bones just so she can eat every week?"

My face fell unbelievingly; how could he still think that? He had been to my house before and seen me out on the weekends! He knew that I didn't have an after-school job; beside, the school forbade its students from taking them anyway.

Unfortunately, Kyouya didn't have the decency to leave me alone for even one club meeting; it wasn't like the club would fall apart without him there for _one _meeting… _Okay, it would, but still._

In reality, I hadn't even bothered to put myself together once I got to school; my clothes still remained a mess and my mental state was only marginally better. I was sure I was as harried as the twins' maid was.

All I was able to think about was the feel of Kyouya-senpai's lips against mine. Needless to say, quadratic equations and/or juggling were seriously out of the question.

"Senpai," I ventured carefully, still holding the attention of my doting 'father.' He looked back at me, peony eyes eager to grant my ever wish. "What is it, O daughter of mine?"

I gritted my teeth, wincing at the jolt of lightning that seemed to pierce my forehead with the effort. "Would you mind if I went home early? I'm not really feeling well."

Tamaki sighed, a little put out by my _unimaginable_ desire to spend time away from the club. "Well," he murmured, after some very feigned deliberation. "I suppose so. I wouldn't want my favorite child to get too sick to come to school. What would such an absence from her family do to her?"

_More than you can imagine,_ I snarled mentally, shooting Kyouya a glance from underneath my lashes.

"Thank you, Tamaki," I vocalized gratefully as I stood, making careful attention to the task of grabbing my bag before I left the room. _I won't be making that mistake again._

But my careful ministrations were futile as a silky voice broke my concentration. "I'll make sure you get home safely." I froze, my back stiff and muscles rigid. I was sure that even a fluttering of wind from the open window would make me shatter.

_No! He can't! _It took all my willpower not to run from the room right then and there; well, that and the fact that I was more than just a little curious to see if he would try anything else.

The bespectacled man unfolded himself fluidly from the chair that he had been working in, balancing checkbooks and _planning how to seduce naive girls._

"Um, thank you, Kyouya-senpai, but that won't be necessary…" I was about to offer further excuse as to why he could be alone with me, but I was cut off by Tamaki. I very dearly wanted to strangle the beautiful man with his own flaxen hair.

"What a good idea, Mommy! Making sure our little girl is well cared for and protected!" Kyouya couldn't help but snort quietly at that, and I knew exactly why. _I needed protection _from _him!_

Apparently, protesting was useless, so I gathered the rest of my belongings and fled the room demurely, hoping that Kyouya wouldn't- would- follow. My heart jumped fearfully- excitedly- when I heard heavier footsteps following behind me.

"Haruhi, I know you're confused about yesterday…" I paused in my walking, but I didn't turn to face him. My school bag was clasped in both hands, resting on my thighs, as I waited from him to continue- to explain why exactly I felt the way I did.

"But I couldn't help myself. Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" I whirled to face him, surprising him with the anger that was bubbling in my eyes.

"Do what, Kyouya?" I snapped, dropping the formality off his name. "Violate me like that? Did you ever consider that I may not have wanted to be treated that way? That I may not have like it?"

His face was slack with disbelief for a moment, but then it regained its carefully calculated composure.

"You may not have wanted it," he purred, leaning close to me, cupping my face in his outstretched hand. "But you certainly like it well enough," he finished, his lips just a breath away from mine.

"I… I don't know…"

This time I initiated contact, crushing my hungry lips to his. He didn't gasp, or act surprised in the least bit. He only slid his long-fingered hands into my short hair.

I didn't care that we were in such an open place and that anyone who walked by would see two boys from the acclaimed Host Club kissing with such abandon. I only cared that I couldn't feel enough of Kyouya through both of our uniforms.

His tongue claimed my own in savage strokes, clashed with mine in a primitive dance. His hand was snaking under my blazer, my wrinkled uniform shirt; I sucked in a ragged breath- causing us both to moan at the sensation- as his fingers brushed over my bare stomach, making it contract pleasurably.

He ripped his mouth from mine, breathing unsteadily. "Haruhi, we can't do this here."

I knew he was right, but I didn't want to stop. _Would it be wrong if I brought him home? I mean, I want this badly, and it would be bad for any students to see us like this- with Kyouya's hand up my shirt as I cling to him desperately._

"You're right," I breathed, nipping at his bottom lip. He moaned quietly, releasing me from his grasp. I wasn't brave enough, forward enough, to invite Kyouya home with me as much as I wanted him.

"I usually am," he grinned, straightening my shirt out since it was wrinkled up beneath my blazer. "And right now, I think you should get home, and rest. You're frazzled."

I nodded airily; my head was spinning but this time it wasn't heavy with worry. I was thick with longing, glazed with wanting.

He turned from me and walked back toward the Third Music Room without so much as a good bye.

So there you have it, a very confused Haruhi left to walk home alone. I doubt she can even see straight, much less remember where she lives. Ha.

Until next time!


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